Inavva Ki Fasqoyi
by TimeJourney
Summary: Ma vorsa she tih zhor ven tih shekhikh…. Anha gwe ha jinak sorfosor…. Ven hador…. Seris ven a daeni she gillo…. -With fire in my heart as my light…. I go from this earth…. Like a gust of wind…. Free as a leaf in the breeze…. [ Rated M to be safe ]
1. Sen Jalans

**READER'S DISCRETION ADVISED**

 **THIS STORY CONTAINS MAN ON MAN, WOMAN ON WOMAN, GRAPHIC SCENES, RAPE, GORE, SMUT, AND STRONG LANGUAGE.**

 **DISCLAIMER**

 **I DO NOT OWN THE GAME OF THRONE SERIES OR SOME OF THE CHARACTERS OR ANY SCENES THAT MAY LOOK FAMILIAR.**

* * *

}¡{ **DAENERYS **}¡{

 _The light of the sun streams between the branches of trees, creating dapple patterns upon the forest floor._

 _A butterfly flutters up and down, its wings beating in the warm air. Their beauty is like painted purple silk and as delicate as rice paper. It alights upon a flower and folds its wings nearly upward._

 _A large black paw lands near the flower and the insect, but the butterfly doesn't flee. Not even when the animal sniffs at it curiously, a hrakkar. The beast is a large feline the size of a horse with snow-white fur, aside from the bushy mane around its neck, paws, and tip of its thick tail. It also has a patch of black fur upon its forehead that resembles a diamond. It lifts its head and opens its mouth wide to yawn, exposing its razor sharp teeth though its dagger-long fangs are always on display even after it finishes._

 _The hrakkar continues on its way through the lush forest, soon coming upon the one and only Danearys Targaryen._

 _The Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea sits at the base of a tree. A breeze causes the branches to shake in a magnificent rage and a myriad of leaves fall loose like snow. Her violet eyes watch as they skitter and dance in the toying wind as if they have life._

 _Her lips spread into a smile and she looks down at her swollen belly when she feels her son, The Stallion Who Mounts The World, move within._

 _She quickly looks up when a twig snaps beneath the large paw of the hrakkar. With wide eyes she remains still as it approaches her slowly. Once close enough the beast's golden eyes gaze at her. They seem to hold an intelligence not commonly seen in any animal._

 _The hrakkar towers over the silver-haired woman, slowly moving its head down towards her belly. Danearys is frozen with fear and prepares for the worse, for its claws and fangs to tear into her flesh. But the large cat just simply places the tip of its snout where her son grows inside her._

 _After a long moment, Danearys lifts her hand and reaches to touch the large cat, but once her fingers graze the soft fur the loud whine of a horse suddenly sounds._

 _She looks over as the flap of the tent is cut open and in enters four lajak with Drogo's mighty red. Soon the witch comes into her sight, chanting strange words as she approaches the horse. Danearys's eyes drift to where her husband lays on the ground in the middle of the tent. His skin having a sickly pale hue, beads of sweat dotting his brows, and his mouth slightly open. Her throat becomes tight and tears begin to swell in her eyes as she places her hand over her womb once more._

 _The witch then turns to her. "You will see exactly what life is worth when all the rest has gone…"_

Danearys's eyes snap open and her body shakes lightly as she breathes in quick pants.

She props herself up onto her elbows as she looks around the tent. The rays of the sun filter through the brown fabric, giving it a beautiful golden hue. All appears as it should be; no Mirri, no horse, and the only hrakkar is the one with instead a white mane long killed and turned into her cloak.

"Zhey jalan atthirari anni?" _Moon of my life?_ The familiar deep voice of her husband says.

She looks over to find him sitting at the small table, dressed for the day and already breaking his fast.

Drogo gets to his feet and comes over to kneel by her side of the bed, gently placing a hand on her cheek. "Fini atthirarido addrekat yeri laqikh?" _What dreams causes your tears?_

Danearys issues a small smile and places her hand over his. "Jisse athdrivarido, shekh ma shieraki anni." _Just a nightmare, my sun and stars._

Drogo moves in and kisses her moist cheeks before touching his lips to hers, then he rises to his feet again. She watches as he moves to the other side of the tent to take up his arakh before leaving. Her throat becomes a bit tight, but she pushes back the tears and gets out of bed.

As she breaks her fast her handmaids- Doreah, Irri, and Jhiqui- bring in the large wooden bath into the tent. Once it is set the two Dothraki women leave to bring in buckets of hot water. After her bath Doreah helps braid her hair and she dresses into her comfortable riding clothes.

As Danearys makes her way through the khalasar she is met with staring eyes. A few faces smile, most remain neutral, and some openly scowl. But over time she learned to easily ignore the negative gazes. The one thing she could never ignore is the females of the great tribe. The little giggling girls as they chase one another, babies suckling at their mother's breasts, and mother's with swollen bellies ready to bring new life sometime soon.

 _A joy that I will never have…._

* * *

}¡{ **DROGO** }¡{

Under the watchful eye of the scorching sun Drogo and some of the khas are catching their horses for the day's ride. Already on his red he chases after Daenerys's silver filly. And running alongside the beautiful mare is her new foal, sired by his previous steed. It's a gorgeous little thing with a vibrant hide the color of fire.

 _Had our son lived most likely that would have been his first horse…_

As everyone begins to set out, two of Drogo's bloodriders ride on either side of him in the front of the clan. His khalasar which is now of fifteen thousand, less than half the size from before and no longer the largest khalasar. That day three moons ago when he became ill two of his own bloodriders, Pono and Jhaqo, declared themselves as khals. The memory of their betrayal makes him clench his fist so tightly that if the reins were instead bones they'd turn to dust by the grip.

At some point he spots his woman wife stopped on the side of the path with her three bloodriders; Jhogo, Aggo, and Rakharo were given the high rank and greatly rewarded for their loyalty. Even Drogo rewarded his fellow brothers; Qotho, Haggo, and Cohollo. Drogo then takes notice of Jorah the Andal going to halt his steed beside Daenerys, it is nice to see that she still has someone- other than her handmaids- to talk to.

Especially since not many words have been exchanged between the married couple themselves for a time. No, since that dreadful day there's been a bit of a strain on the two. Drogo would mainly spend his waking hours keeping busy on minimal tasks or drinking with his bloodriders and other close friends. The only time he and Daenerys are ever alone together is late at night when she has already gone to sleep and he lays by her side. And when they do find themselves in each other's company for some reason, like say due to rain, they'd still keep to themselves.

Normally Drogo would have had her discarded and take a new wife. Or simply just laid with another woman that would give him a son. Or at the very least claim one of those born from the women he laid with in the past. But Drogo refuses, despite the urgings of his fellow brothers suggesting to do so. No, he loves that woman too much to do such things.

 _I care not if she is barren, she will always be the moon of my life…_

* * *

}¡{ **VISERYS** }¡{

The Dragon Prince almost cringes in the midst of his movements as the woman below him moans. God, he's heard fucked pigs who make better sounds than this whore. He thrust into her again and she cries out in that whinnying voice.

"Get out." Viserys says as he abruptly pulls out of her, ignoring her annoying mewls.

His body doesn't protest at the sudden stop of the orgasmic activity, though he highly doubts that he'd be able to achieve it. Not because he lacks sexual prowess- no that is far from it, but because he may actually become deaf before he reaches his climax. Or before that, he just might beat the whore for being so bloody damn high-pitched.

"Get out," he says again as he rises from the bed. "I am done."

He takes up his long-sleeved dark brown shirt that had been discarded over the back of a chair and slips it on. Then he walks over to the table in the middle of the room and pours himself a cup of wine. As he takes a sip of the spirit he walks out onto the balcony, before him the narrow sea shimmers like a myriad of turquoise gems under the midday sun. And just beyond the waters his birthplace, Dragonstone, calls to him. It is also where that Usurper sits upon The Iron Throne, _his_ birthright.

"Good day, brother." a familiar voice greets.

"What is so good about it, Rhaegar?" Viserys responds bitterly.

Beside the Dragon Prince did Rhaegar lean against the stone beam. He is taller than Viserys a good half foot and shares the traditional Valyrian appearance; fair skin, long silver-blond hair, and purple eyes. He dons a simple brown coat that laces up the chest, black felt pants, and boots.

"What troubles you, brother?"

"Do you know what today is?"

Rhaegar doesn't respond.

"It's our sister's fifteenth nameday." Viserys continues. "It's been one year. A whole bloody year! And I am still here!"

"Ah I see. As Illyrio had told you on the day of Dany's wedding, the khal has promised you a crown and you shall have it."

"But when!? I gave him my sister and who I am certain that surely by now has given him a son!"

"Oh you haven't heard have you? Daenerys did indeed bear the khal a son, but our new nephew never drew his first breath."

Viserys sighs and mutters under his breath. "Worthless good for nothing girl. Can't even do that right."

The Dragon Prince goes to take another drink of wine, only to find his cup empty.

"Peace brother," Rhaegar says as he follows him back inside. "You shall have all that was promised to you and more."

"But how much longer!?" Viserys says as he pours more wine into the cup. "I've waited eighteen years to claim that which is mine."

"The Dothraki are true to their word but do things in their own time."

Viserys doesn't respond as he takes a long drink.

"Say, me and Illyrio are about to head out into the city to meet some of his acquaintances. How about you accompany us. I'm sure they'd appreciate your presence."

"Sitting around and listening to old men tell stories. I have better things to do with my day, _bastard_."

Rhaegar looks at his brother for a brief moment, then issues a small smile before turning to leave.

* * *

}¡{ **RHAEGAR** }¡{

The soles of Rhaegar's boots tap against the polished marble floor as he makes his way down the hall, soon emerging into the gardens.

He stares blankly at the stone path he strolls upon, memories of when he and his little sister Daenerys use to spend together flow through his mind. He would usually play his silver-stringed harp, sometimes the two would sing together or Daenerys would be reading a book. Now she is thousands of miles away with that scourge of the Dothraki Sea.

 _Selling the last of his family as a way to get the throne back._ Rhaegar thought to himself destestably.

Of course he never had any say in the matter, Viserys made that perfectly clear.

 _Bastard…_

It never fails to amaze him how much things had changed in an instant just because of that title.

When it was somehow revealed that his mother had laid with a knight before her unpleasant marriage to Aerys, the second of his name, those who he thought were his allies had turned. He of course lost his claim to the throne, which he never really cared about anyway. No, all that he ever truly cared for was taken from him after he had lost the battle at the Trident against that worthless king Robert Baratheon.

A sigh escapes Rhaegar's lips, and something from the corner of his eye makes him stop.

Perched upon a finely trimmed hedge is a white bird. At first he thought it was a dove but immediately noticed it was too large and its beak was too broad. No, the avian was no doubt a raven.

Rhaegar lifts a curious brow as the bird looks back at him with those small glossy black orbs. _A white raven in Pentos? How-_

"Sir Rhaegar," a voice says from behind.

The silver-haired man turns to see a servant approaching him.

"The Magister is waiting,"

Rhaegar nods and turns to look back at the white raven, only to find it gone.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES**

And that concludes the first chapter.

Okay a fanfic that isn't about my usual fandom preference, those of you who are familiar with my works. So my friend has urged me to get caught up with Game Of Thrones before the last season comes out. Now I haven't gotten further than the first season because, like a lot of people I trust, after Drogo died I just stopped. I swear I loved the Drogo and Daenerys couple so much that I just couldn't get over it. But of course my friend said I have to because of Daenerys growth throughout the whole series along with other characters.

While I was binging I got into looking up theories on what would have happened if my precious Drogo hadn't died.

Well, here is my version. Another addition to the many fanfics involving the beloved couple lol. Hope you guys are excited for more. But of course all great things come to those who wait.

Until next time, as always, stay awesome loves!:)


	2. Asshie

**READER'S DISCRETION ADVISED**

 **THIS STORY CONTAINS MAN ON MAN, WOMAN ON WOMAN, GRAPHIC SCENES, RAPE, GORE, SMUT, AND STRONG LANGUAGE.**

 **DISCLAIMER**

 **I DO NOT OWN THE GAME OF THRONE SERIES OR SOME OF THE CHARACTERS OR ANY SCENES THAT MAY LOOK FAMILIAR.**

* * *

}¡{ **ZHALIA** }¡{

It is a peaceful day in the city of Pentos and the shops and stands are just as busy as they always are, the constant bustling rings in the ears of all its citizens as people go about their business.

"Stop! Thieves!" The shouts of guards sound along with a series of loud clatter.

Running across the tile roof of one of the square brick buildings is two grimy children. One is a girl who appears to be seven years of age, with long dirty blonde hair nearly reaching the small of her back and vibrant violet eyes. She dons a long-sleeved grey shirt that hangs loosely on her frame with the hem reaching her mid-thigh, a pair of brown felt pants that look just as loose, and black leather boots. The other is a boy who is of thirteen years, his hair a cluster of brown curls and matching eyes as vulnerable and as sweet as those of a doe. His clothing, a black shirt, and dark blue felt pants and boots, are more well fitted than the girl's.

The two skid to a sudden stop when they reach the edge.

"Of all things to steal Zhalia!" The boy scolds, looking at the embroidered leather pouch in the girl's hand.

"You're just jealous because I got more than you, Orion!" The girl counters as she gestures to the loaf of bread the boy is holding. "Plus that fat old man should have known better than to keep all his money in a open place."

"You!" a voice shouts from behind.

The two quickly look over their shoulders and find their pursuers.

"I'll have your hands as trophies you street rats!" one of the three guards growl as they start to close in with their drawn swords.

When Orion turns to look back at Zhalia he finds her gone. He quickly looks over the edge and his heart races in his chest when he sees her dropping. Halfway down the girl uses a free hand to catch herself on the sill of the building and then falls the rest of the way, landing on the ground like an agile cat.

Seeing her safe descent Orion quickly jumps, though his descent isn't as graceful.

He lands on two ropes strung between buildings, skiing down them and collecting bits and pieces of drying clothes as he goes. When he nears the end of the rope at a window a woman quickly reaches and slams the shutters closed. Orion slams into them and falls to the street, his fall broken by the numerous awnings and pile of clothes around him.

Zhalia is giggling as she rushes over to his aide. "Your fall looked a lot more fun!"

The boy looks at her with a scowl, then looks up when the cries of the guards sound from above.

"There they are!" one shouts.

"You won't get away so easy!" shouts another.

"You think that was easy?" Orion says as he stands.

A few older women nearby begin to laugh and shake their heads at the two, the children smile back at them and quickly turn their attention to the few other guards who suddenly appear down the street.

"You two, over that way, and you, with me." the commander says. "We'll find them."

Zhalia quickly picks up the loaf of bread, thankful it hadn't touched the dirty ground. She shoves it into Orion's hands before pulling a sheet over her head and hopping onto his back.

"Morning ladies," Orion greets as he rushes over to them.

"Getting into trouble a little early today, aren't we kids?" one says.

"Trouble? No way!" Zhalia responds with a grin. "You're only in trouble if you get caught."

"Gotcha!" A large hand suddenly grabs the girl's shoulder and yanks her back so roughly the disguise falls off.

"We're in trouble!" Zhalia says as she looks into the guard's angry face.

The guard brings the blade of his sword up. "And this time-"

A screeching sounds as a white raven suddenly appears- flapping about the guard's face. Zhalia takes the opportunity and pulls the man's turban over his eyes. Orion also delivers a kick to his shin.

"Perfect timing as always, Cloud!" Orion says.

The raven lets out a _kaw_ before flying off.

"Come on," Zhalia says as she gets down from Orion's back. "Let's get outta here!"

The two wave goodbye to the women as they run through the streets. Constantly dodging guards and their swinging swords. At some point they race through a flock of sheep, hurdle over a man sleeping on a bed of nails. Of course one of the large guards trips and lands on him. Zhalia looks over her shoulder at the scene and chortles.

Soon the two riffraffs reach the city wall. As they scamper up a pile of barrels Orion kicks one down on top of another guard. Once on top of the platform the other guards shake it back and forth from below as an attempt to knock them off.

"Hold onto me Orion!" Zhalia says as she quickly ties her sack of treasure to her belt.

The platform soon topples over and shatters as it crashes to the ground. The guards draw their swords as they approach the rubble, ready to capture their prey. But confusion affects their faces when they don't see any traces of the children.

"What the-"

"Where did they go!?"

On the other side of the wall the two are falling like stones dropped from a great height.

"Zhalia!" Orion shouts as his arms tighten around the small girl's waist. "I'd like to not die!"

"I got it- I got it!"

She moves her hands in a circular motion and soon a compressed ball of air forms. It expands until it is large enough to fill her arms and when the two are a couple yards from the ground she moves the airball below them. It slows their descent significantly and the two land safely, Zhalia on her feet and Orion face first in the dirt.

"You were right Orion," Zhalia says with a smile as she looks down at the boy. "The free cities are fun!"

Orion groans.

* * *

Waves roll in with a soothing sound as the placid ocean laps at the graceful arc of sand glittering under the rays of the bright sun. The salty water is a brief flurry of deep aquamarine and bright gold. Sometimes the backwash would creep over seashells and steal the treasures back to the aquatic world from whence they came.

A cry escapes Cloud's beak as he soars high through the air. Soon he spots the two mischievous younglings sparring on a small outcropping. The white raven lands on a small boulder next to the bread and leather pouch, helping himself to the half-eaten loaf.

Orion lets out a grunt when he lands flat on his back on the ground. "No fair! You were using your powers."

Zhalia stands half a yard away with a mischievous smile. "I was not!"

The boy groans as he picks up his long stick and gets up. "Yes you were! Your eyes were closed!"

"Only because a fly got in one." Zhalia lies, rubbing her eye.

Orion sighs. "That isn't fair. You're always beating me because of your magic,"

"I can beat you easy without using my magic," the girl says a bit cockily and takes her stance.

"You promise you'll fight fair?"

Zhalia nods.

Orion takes his stance, and launches his attack.

For the next while the two exchange blows, blocking and landing some. Orion always tries to use his strength to his advantage when it comes to sparring. But Zhalia is so quick and nimble, she almost looks like she is dancing.

Finally the boy gets her right where he wants her but as he moves in to deliver a blow his foot catches on something and falls forward on his face. After he lands he quickly pushes himself up on his hands and looks to see what he tripped over, a simple bit of earth jutting out of the ground.

He then looks at the giggling girl with furrowed brows. "That's it!"

Before Zhalia can react Orion launches himself at her. They fall in a tangle of arms and legs, pounding on each other. They scrabble across the ground, trying to get leverage. Eventually Zhalia is on Orion's back with her arm around his neck and grinding her knuckles against his head. Orion clenches his teeth and quickly rolls over, pinning the small girl under him.

"Brother you're crushing me!" Zhalia laughs.

Orion can't help but laugh too and gets off her. "You are so annoying,"

Zhalia giggles, and Orion lays down. For a moment the two lay there on the moist stone, breathing heavily. Clouds slowly drift through the crimson and orange sky.

"Orion?"

"Eh?"

"What was mother like?"

Orion inhales before answering. "She was the most beautiful woman in all the realm. Father says she gave me her hair and eyes. And she always loved to read… just as much as she loved the stars."

"Do you think our baby sister could beat you up too?"

Orion lets out a light laugh. "Maybe. And wouldn't be able to use magic and fight fair."

There is a moment of silence….

"She and mommy fell asleep before I was born right?"

"Ay,"

"Then…" she trails off.

Orion pushes himself up on his elbows, finding her sitting up and hugging her legs. "What?"

She shrugs her shoulder. "I can't help but wonder how I came to be. I mean wouldn't father need mother to be awake for me to fall from a tree?"

Orion can't help but grin, recalling the ridiculous story father told the girl about where babies come from. "Well see… every baby is different. You… uh… you were actually born from lightning."

"Lightning!?" Zahlia's face brightens.

"Y- yes! We were traveling one night and-"

The boy is interrupted by a sudden loud thunder-like sound and in the distance a large cloud of smoke rises.

The children look at each other for a profound moment and quickly get to their feet. Orion grabs the pouch with the money and bread and follows after Zhalia across the cluster of slippery rocks. Once on solid ground they sprint for a long while until they come upon a caravan parked in a field.

Cloud is perched on the edge of the roof and behind him black smoke belches out from an open hatch. Letting out a series of kaws that sound as if he is saying, _"Blake! Blake!"_

When Orion opens the door all appears well, as if nothing had occurred. It is bare with shelves and cabinets on either side fully stocked with a variety of books. He then quickly shuts the door and turns what looks to be a small lock beneath the knob.

When he opens the door again a billow of black smoke pours out.

"Father?" Orion calls out.

A series of coughs sound and out steps who can safely assume to be Blake, he is an elderly man in his fourth decade with a short grey beard and hair. He wears a dark blue long-sleeved (which have been pushed up) shirt, black pleather pants, and boots. As he pounds his fist against his chest the chain wrapped around his wrist jingles.

"Are you okay?" Zhalia asks.

"Yes… I just had… a little…." Blake trails off as he goes into another coughing fit.

Zhalia decides to approach the wagon, stopping a pace or two away before quickly pushing her hands out and a gust of wind burst from her palms. She closes her eyes as the remainder of the smoke blows past her, and also out of the roof hatch. After a long moment she enters their home, and the interior is completely different than from when Orion had opened the door the first time.

The space looks much larger than it would appear outside, about the size of a small cottage. On one side where the window is there is now a booth where they eat their meals. Opposite is the fireplace where a fire flickers beneath a pot, there is also a layer of black smog surrounding the opening.

Zhalia approaches the fireplace, looking curiously at the contents of the pot, she crinkles her nose when she sees what looks like deep dark mud bubbling slowly.

"Ugh!" Orion says in disgust, having materialized beside the girl at some point. "What in the world is that?"

"It's the elixir," Blake says as he enters.

Zhalia quickly turns to look at the man with wide eyes. "You mean…"

Blake nods as he takes up a ladle and stirs it. After a moment he pulls it out, the steam enters the children's nostrils and they immediately cover their noses. It is such a vulgar stench that makes their stomachs churn.

"So… just that one ladle worth is all I need right?" Zhalia asks.

"If you mean one ladle worth after another until the entire batch is gone, then yes." Blake responds as he begins stirring the concoction again.

"I have to eat all of it!?" Zhalia practically screeches.

Orion chuckles.

Zhalia looks at the curly-haired boy with her mouth agape, making him laugh harder.

"I know it's not the most appetizing but it is the only way you'll get better." Blake says.

Zhalia looks back in the pot with disgust, a groan escaping her throat.

Blake places a hand on her shoulder. "Tell you what. How about tomorrow I buy you your favorite cake and you can eat as much of it as you like before supper."

Zhalia bites her lower lip as she continues to look at the bubbling concoction for another moment. "Do we still have the funnel?"

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES**

Hope you guys are enjoying it so far:)

 **HOW ORIGINAL…. NOT**

As you guy may have recognized the opening scene to this chapter was taken from the Disney classic _**Aladdin**_.


	3. Rhojosor -Edited-

**READER'S DISCRETION ADVISED**

 **THIS STORY CONTAINS MAN ON MAN, WOMAN ON WOMAN, GRAPHIC SCENES, RAPE, GORE, SMUT, AND STRONG LANGUAGE.**

 **DISCLAIMER**

 **I DO NOT OWN THE GAME OF THRONE SERIES OR SOME OF THE CHARACTERS OR ANY SCENES THAT MAY LOOK FAMILIAR.**

* * *

}¡{ **ORION** }¡{

An eerie wind howled through the night, causing the trees to shake their leaves in a angry rage. The pearlescent moon sat above the forest, its pale rays glinted softly between branches and allowed the beams to create dapple patterns across the ground. Dew clung to wildflowers and the thick grass, giving the forest a fresh and brilliant shimmer.

The _clip-clop_ of hooves can be heard as two horses pulled the caravan along a lonely road.

Orion was sitting beside his father, holding the reins for the first time. He looked up at the stars, flickering like countless small candles. Tonight the cluster of stars shaped as a butterfly, known as Zhalia, was their guide.

"Son, stop." Blake suddenly said.

Orion gently pulled on the reins and the horses obediently halted. "What is-"

"Shh!" Blake cuts him off.

Orion listened… after a moment he can faintly hear the wails of an infant.

"There," Blake pointed in a direction where a flickering light can be seen in the far distance.

"I'll go and see." Orion said as he quickly hopped down onto the ground.

"Hold on there night ranger," Blake said as the boy walked around "Got your blade?"

"Yes," Orion said as he unsheathed his sword a bit.

"Alright, then be very cautious."

Orion nodded and silently made his way through the foliage.

Soon the boy emerged into a clearing and with what looked like a campfire in the center. The cries of an infant were louder but there was no one in sight. He followed the direction in which he thinks it's coming from, approaching the fire.

His eyes widened when he looked into the flames.

* * *

Orion jerks awake to Cloud flapping and cawing frantically in front of his face, and quickly moves to get up- only to bang his head. He plops back down on his narrow bed and curses, then slowly gets out of his bunk to see what the panicked bird is trying to warn him about. Orion's eyes widen when he sees Zhalia sound asleep in the bunk above him, thin tendrils of flames leaving her partially opened mouth with each steady breath.

Acting quickly Orion picks up his boot and throws it at her.

"Hey!" Zhalia says as she rubs her head. Picking up the boot she turns to look down at the boy. "What was that for?"

"You nearly burned the place down!" Orion says.

"I did not!" Zhalia counters as she throws the boot back at him.

"Yes you did!" Orion shoots back. He then looks at Cloud perched on his shoulder, preening his singed feathers. "Look at that you nearly roasted Cloud!"

Zhalia gasps and quickly hops down from her bunk. She gently takes up porcelain bird, cooing apologies and kissing his wing.

Orion sighs and goes to sit back down on his bunk to put on his boots.

Every month the girl does something that could leave them homeless, unintentionally of course. After he and Blake had found Zhalia she blew a hole in the roof with her wind blast. Then there was the time she sent the caravan flying with her earth manipulation. And how could Orion forget the time he got soaked and slapped by a salmon. But most likely fire is her last element so hopefully there won't be any more risks.

"Breakfast!" Blake calls out.

Feeling hunger gnawing Orion wastes no time going out into the dining room. Soon followed by a hopping Zhalia putting on her boots. The two slide into the booth where porridge and tea awaits.

"Good morning," Blake greets the children as he settles opposite of them with his food.

"Morning farther," Orion says before tucking in.

Zhalia just looks at her meal, lazily stirring her spoon around it with a bit of a nauseating expression

"How are you feeling Zhalia?" Blake asks.

She simply groans in response as she pushes her bowl aside, and takes up her tea.

"Still full from last night's meal," Orion comments.

"Well, hopefully you'll have an appetite for cake later." Blake says enthusiastically.

Zhalia just groans again, clearly the mention of food- even desert- makes her stomach churn.

"Which reminds me, I never asked how your visit into the city was the other day."

"It was fine." Orion says as he finishes his porridge and decides to help himself to his sister's. "Just went walking around the market."

"That's all? Nothing at all interesting you wish to tell me?"

The two children shake their heads in unison, knowing where this discussion is heading.

Blake sighs and reaches into his pocket to take out a few coins, setting them down on the table.

Zhalia's eyes widen at the currency and sits up straight. "A- are those-!?"

"Aye," Blake says. "Westeros coins. Somehow I found them mixed in with our money."

 _Damn! I knew I should have checked them first._ Orion thought to himself.

 _"Orion,"_ Blake says after a moment.

"It was Zhalia!" The boy blurts out.

The blonde girl looks at him with her mouth agape.

Blake's eyes flicker over to her. "Zhalia,"

"Orion stole too!"

"I did not!"

"Then how come I found this," Blake says as he takes out the embroidered pouch. "Under _your_ pillow,"

"All I stole was bread. Zhalia is the one who took the money!"

"B- but… well father you always say that money is best earned through sweat and blood-"

"Right!" Orion jumps in. "Both of which were shed."

"And you believe that is a good enough excuse for thievery?" Blake says. "Have you any idea what would have happened should the guards have caught you?"

"Cut off our hands," Zhalia says.

"Have us flogged," Orion adds.

"Maybe even have you sold off as slaves," Blake says. "Now what do you think your punishment should be?"

"Yes Zhalia," Orion says as he looks at the girl. "After all you were the one who stole it."

Zhalia kicks Orion's leg, and he punches her shoulder.

"Enough!" Blake says sternly. "Orion you stole too."

"Just a loaf of bread!"

"I don't care! You are in just as much trouble as she is."

The two children then slouch in their seats.

* * *

}¡{ **BLAKE** }¡{

After breakfast the children go outside to play while Blake starts making preparations for their travels.

He sits at the booth with the map of Essos now rolled out before him. At some point his eyes flicker over to the chains glinting in the rays of the sun around his forearm. He remembers the great pride he felt when he first completed his chain back in Westeros, about a fortnight after his twentieth birthday on which he took his vows. A normal Maester always wears the chains as a collar around his neck as a reminder of the realm he serves. But after his treason Blake quickly fled the lands in exile before his chains could be stripped from him.

The different links of metal signifies each subject he had studied; black iron for ravenry, bronze for history, yellow gold for math and economic, regular iron for warcraft, silver for medicines and healing, and the notorious Valaryian steel for higher mysteries.

He has two of each chain, aside from the Valaryian steel which he has three. Magic is said to have once been a mighty force of the world and Valyria has always been described as the "last ember" of magic. But it went out during the Doom, when the volcanos of the now shattered Valyrian peninsula known as the Fourteen Flames suddenly erupted. It is said that every hill for five hundred miles exploded, filling the air with ash and smoke and fire, which killed even dragons. Earthquakes destroyed settlements and lakes boiled or turned to acid.

Blake looks out the window at the children, particularly Zhalia.

No doubt she is of Valyrian heritage; with her fair creamy ivory skin, ashy blonde hair, and amethyst eyes. As the old man watches her manipulate a orb of water containing a single fish he considers the possibility of her also being a descendant of Rhoynar. However, neither can explain her rapid growth. When she began walking and speaking just a fortnight after being found Blake safely assumed that some powerful magic was at work, dark powerful magic. Luckily he was able to find a elixir that should stun her growth for a time and from then on continue normally.

 _Perhaps I shouldn't be so brash with them for their thievery..._ Blake thought to himself as he continues to watch the children. _As much as I try to conceal it they are well aware of the financial struggle... The ingredients for the elixir were as rare as they were expensive... Not to mention the books haven't been selling well as of late..._

Blake sighs and looks back down at the map.

Lately he was thinking of perhaps going to the Iron Bank in Braavos to retrieve whatever of his inheritance he has left. Again, the ingredients for Zhalia's elixir were very expensive and some were even sought out desperately by others. With those Blake managed to make an arrangement where he receives the item on a loan and the debts are due. Of course with the mischief the children caused in Pentos going by ship is put of the question for the moment. Though Blake supposes it will be good driving practice for the children if they go by land to the richest free city.

 _But... what of the chance of the elixir not working?_

Blake eyes Qohor on the map, which is also known as the City of Sorcerers. Even though he followed the directions to make the elixir precisely it's better to be safe than sorry. Also, maybe he can find someone who can undo whatever was done to Zhalia.

 _Of course I must proceed with caution the closed we get to the Dothraki Sea…_ the old man glances back out at the girl. _I can't explain it… But I feel as if her life would be forfeit... Should certain people catch word of the girl.._.

* * *

"Okay, this one is really easy." Zhalia says. "But don't get mad if you can't do it right away."

As the girl turns to face the water and lift her arms Orion does the same.

Zhalia starts to move her hands back and forth, making small waves of water. "Just push and pull the water like this, brother."

Orion nods and starts to do the same hand movements as his little sister. "Like this?"

In a far distance, a pair of golden eyes observe the children from amongst the small branches of a shrub.

They are mainly focused on the girl.

Watching very closely as she goes over to her brother. "It's almost right. The key is getting the wrist movement right."

For the next few moments Orion tries to mimic the girl's movements. "Sister, how is it that you know how to do all this?"

"Hmm?" Zhalia responds as she stops.

"How do you know how to command the elements?" Orion asks again. "Like... do you just know? The way a spider just knows how to make a web? Or...?"

Zhalia just looks at her brother for a long moment, then just shrugs her shoulders.

Orion lets out a light chuckle and continues on with the lesson.

 _She has been tampered with.._. a low growl sounds from the shrub where the golden eyes gaze out. _Hopefully it will not cause complications in the future.._.

The golden eyes then drift over the white raven perched on the roof of the carriage, looking directly at them. Another low growl sounds. Cloud lets out a low _kaw_ as he spreads his wings and takes off, gliding to a tall tree towering over the shrub.

By the time he lands on a branch and looks around... there's nothing.

The raven then looks back at the children, mainly Zhalia. And from his beak comes one word.

"Fate."

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES**

Sorry Blake's part was a bit short but hope you all enjoyed. What will happen next? Only one way to find out loves.

As always, until next time, stay awesome!:)


	4. Oleth Ashefa

**READER'S DISCRETION ADVISED**

 **THIS STORY CONTAINS MAN ON MAN, WOMAN ON WOMAN, GRAPHIC SCENES, RAPE, GORE, SMUT, AND STRONG LANGUAGE.**

 **DISCLAIMER**

 **I DO NOT OWN THE GAME OF THRONE SERIES OR SOME OF THE CHARACTERS.**

* * *

}¡{ **ZHALIA** }¡{

A chorus of frogs can be heard from the bubbling creek, along with a myriad of softer sounds stir in the night. The moon is bright is the hazy sky, surrounded by both stars and bluish rings. It looks like a beautiful silver ball sitting on a glittering black velvet cushion.

 _Rain will come tomorrow…_ Zhalia thought to herself.

The little blonde is sitting next to Orion who is driving the caravan. He practically begged Blake to take the reins to their destination. The old man figured Orion is old enough to handle one night on his own.

Zhalia wanted to stay up so she can learn how to drive, and also she hasn't been able to get much sleep lately.

Days following after eating that elixir slop Zhalia has been eating less and less food to the point where she barely eats anything, and when she does she only ends up vomiting it back up. Now her meals need to have ginger to help keep it down. But despite that she can only eat small portions of food, often she will go a whole day without eating and only drink ginger mint tea. And during the past fortnight things only got worst. The poor girl's muscles feel sore and as if they're being baked on the inside, and her bones feel like they're caught in the tight grip of a vice- and keeps getting tighter with each passing day.

Orion tries to help distract his little sister from her discomfort by talking about the stars; mainly the visible constellations and the stories behind them, and depending on their origin he'll speak in either Dothraki or High Valyrian.

Of course the girl's two favorite is Zhalia, which she's named after, and Draco. Two of the few things that Zhalia knows a lot about is of the Dothraki and Targaryen's. She's always had a deep fascination about them. The Targaryen's because of the fact that they use to ride and command dragons. The Dothraki, pretty much because of the fact they are like pirates but on land.

Time goes by unnoticed and it isn't until the stars start the fade do the children realize that dawn is approaching.

"That's strange," Orion says when they reach a river that flows between them and a village, spanned by a stout bridge.

As they approach it, a greasy man steps from behind a bush and bars their way. His shirt was too short, and his dirty stomach spills over a rope belt. Behind his cracked lips, his teeth looked like crumbling tombstones.

"You c'n stop right there." He says. "This's my bridge. Gotta pay t' get over."

The two look at him for a moment, then Orion tells Zhalia to go get Blake. She hops down and dashes inside the caravan, soon returning with their father.

"What's going on here?" Blake asks.

"This's my bridge. Gotta pay t' get over." The apparent bridgekeeper says again.

Blake lifts a brow and looks up at Orion, who also look at him, then back at the man. "How much?"

The birdgekeeper's lips pull into a broad smile and tells the price. Zhalia is still learning how currency works but when Orion starts to complain hotly she safely assumes the requested amount is unreasonably high. Blake silences the boy with a quick look and wordlessly hands over their coins.

The man puts them into a sack hanging from his belt and stands aside. "Thank'ee much,"

As Orion gets the horses to start moving again Blake gets up and takes the reins. Zhalia quickly rushes up to join them- and gets an idea. As she is climbing up she uses her abilities to cause the caravan to jolt and she falls, into the bridgekeeper's arms.

"O- oh. Pardon me, sir." Zhalia apologizes sweetly.

"Careful there little lass," the man snarls as he sets her on her feet.

Issuing an apologetic smile the girl gets up to sit beside her father who then gets the horses moving again.

"Why didn't you haggle? He skinned you alive!" Orion exclaims when they are out of earshot. "He probably doesn't even own the bridge. We could have pushed right past him."

"Probably," Blake agrees, and gets the horses to move into a trot.

"Then why pay him?"

"Because you can't argue with all of the fools in the world. It's easier to let them have their way, then trick them when they're not paying attention. Wouldn't you agree, Zhalia?"

With a smile the girl nods.

Blake then moves the reins in one hand and extends his free one to her. The little girl groans and reluctantly hands over the pouch. Then there is a sudden howl of anguish from the other side of the river.

It isn't long until the three arrive to a village.

It's composed of stout log buildings with low roofs- some thatched, others shingled- and smoke billows from the chimneys, giving the air a woody smell. As they drive through the streets it isn't long until about a dozen curious villagers begin to follow after them, making Blake having to park so to conduct business. As the older man makes sells the Orion goes off to wrestle with a few other boys while Zhalia simply watches her brother roughhouse as she treats the horses to a apple each. There are some other small girls around but Zhalia isn't really so good at interacting with other kids, especially when she knows more than any other kids should. No she honestly rather go out in the woods and practice her elemental abilities, or she would if the elixir didn't make her feel so terrible.

"Hello, little one." a voice greets.

Zhalia looks up to see a woman who looks like she's in her third decade, with tan skin, a flat nose, and long glossy black hair tied back.

"Hello," Zhalia greets back, and quickly wipes her hands on her tunic. "Would you like to buy a book?"

"Yes I am curious to what you have," she looks over to the few people speaking to Blake. "Though you have drawn quite a crowd."

"Well is there something specific you are looking for?" Zhalia looks the woman over and notices she is carrying a basket full of peculiar plants. "If you like we have a lot of books on herbs and healing."

The woman smiles. "Why yes I would be interested in such books. As a Godswife I must always be prepared to cure any ailment."

Zhalia's eyes widen with interest. "Oh! A priestess of the Great Shephard from… Lhazar?"

"You are correct," the woman confirms.

"I think I know a few books you might like," Zhalia says excitedly as she rushes into the caravan.

She picks out three books and comes back out to show them to the woman.

"Ah this one looks interesting," the woman says when she picks one up and flips through it for a brief moment. "I'll take it. How much?"

Zhalia and Orion always wear a special leather beaded bracelet that always changes certain colors to tell the price of a book, in case Blake is ever too busy with other customers. Zhalia was a bit hesitant to tell the woman the price of the book she had picked, it happens to be rare. But the woman smiled kindly after being told the price, saying that it was a fair price and gave the girl the money.

"Thank you, miss!" Zhalia says as she takes the coins.

"Please, call me Kira. Kira Maz Duur."

"Thank you, Kira Maz Duur!"

"And if you happen to come across any more good books be sure to hold onto them for me."

"Of course!"

With a smile Kira pats Zhalia on the head and turns to go on her way.

* * *

}¡{ **KIRA** }¡{

 _No… it can't be her…_

The Godswife stands behind a tree as she observes the little girl.

No doubt she's of Valyrian heritage. Though the poor thing looks like death with her pale skin having a bit of a grey hue and the dark rings under her eyes is a clear sign she hasn't been getting much- or any sleep. Then when Kira had touched the child's head moments ago. The energy she felt was so familiar.

 _Could it be… how is it…? No- no…_ Kira shakes her head and moves to continue on her way. _She was dead when I…_

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES**

Alright… tbh guys I was actually thinking of taking down the story because of how disappointed I was with the last season.

Yeah I am part of that crowd of fans. I mean I get why the show ended the way it did. **BUT THE POTENTIAL WASTED!** I mean I tolerated the death of Peter Baelish, but I should have took it as a sign.

*sigh* Well sorry the chapter was a bit short, hope you all enjoyed it anyway and are looking forward to more:)

…if there'll be more….


	5. Inavva Maegi

**READER'S DISCRETION ADVISED**

 **THIS STORY CONTAINS MAN ON MAN, WOMAN ON WOMAN, GRAPHIC SCENES, RAPE, GORE, SMUT, AND STRONG LANGUAGE.**

 **DISCLAIMER**

 **I DO NOT OWN THE GAME OF THRONE SERIES OR SOME OF THE CHARACTERS.**

* * *

}¡{ **DROGO** }¡{

The great Khal kneels in a bed of trampled reed grass and scans the tracks with a practiced eye.

It's not often a deer strays so far beyond the border into the Great Grass Sea. Standing with assurance he looks to his bloodriders who have accompanied him on the hunt, gesturing his head to the direction of where the game is. Silently the small group stride through the tall grass, and soon enough they reach a clearing.

Three does are in the field grazing while a single large buck is at the edge nibbling berries from a shrub.

Everyone gets into position, nocking their arrows. Drogo slowly creeps closer toward the prize buck while his bloodriders set their sight's on the does. Arrows are drawn back by strong arms and aimed.

Drogo takes one last steadying breath and- a scream shatters the silence of the night.

As the deer bolt the men lunge forward, racing through the grass. They slide to a stop and loose their arrows at their bounding prey. They all miss- except for Drogo's arrow which goes straight through the buck's neck.

 _"_ _Iffi!"_ Drogo silently says through clenched teeth as he watches his kill fall to the ground.

"Good shot my lord!" Cohollo says.

"What the hell was that?!" Haggo says bitterly.

The men turn to a rustling and find Qotho emerging as he drags a woman by her hair, throwing her at his khal's feet. "It was this bitch who cost us our game."

With the tip of his dragonbone bow does Drogo lift the woman's chin so that he may see her face. She has copper skin and almond eyes. Her face is flat, though the left side is swollen with a couple bite marks no doubt made by a snake. She is a lamb girl of Lhazareen.

 _Could she be from my Little Moon's flock?_ Drogo wonders.

"You…" Cohollo says as he stands beside his khal. "I remember you. You assisted the witch who attempted to end our khal!"

And in the blink of an eye all three of the bloodriders draw their swords.

"No- please!" the woman screams. She sits up on her knees with her hands clasped in front of her. "Please have mercy, my lord!"

"Why should I?" Drogo growls.

"For if it were not for my sister you would not be alive. We saved you."

"By taking the life of my son. After my khalessi saved you and your people."

"I- I- she told me that she would only bring ill fate upon you. There were no intentions to harm the khaleesi or the children." The witch moves forward and clutches the khal's leg. "B- but spare me and I will repay you greatly by-"

Drogo cuts her off with a kick of his foot, knocking her on her back. He then steps forward and stomps her chest. "Nothing will give me greater satisfaction than to hear your screams,"

"Not even your child?" The witch croaks. "I can return your child to you."

Drogo's eyes become daggers. "My son is dead."

"Y- yes," the witch confirms. "but the khaleesi had another after him. A girl."

"The witch tells lies!" Qotho says.

"I swear by the Great Stallion!" the witch counters. "I pulled your children into the world. Your son was monstrously disfigured. But your daughter was normal and healthy."

Drogo removes his foot.

"When the spell my sister used didn't work as she planned and you awoke I fled- teleporting as far as I could, forgetting that your daughter was still in my arms. But because she did not cry- or make any sound I thought she was a stillborn, and so I left her to burn-"

Drogo cuts her off by stomping on her face, not wanting to hear anymore of this nonsense, and turns to go tend to his kill.

"I had seen her!" the woman calls out after the khal took a few steps. "In a village near Selhoru. W- with a book merchant. She looks just like the khaleesi!"

Drogo turns to look at the woman for a moment, then to his bloodriders.

* * *

The sister witch's words continue to echo in Drogo's mind as he and his bloodriders ride back to the khalasar.

 _Your daughter was normal and healthy… But because she did not cry- or make any sound I thought she was a stillborn… She looks just like the khaleesi…_

While preparing his buck for the trip back home Drogo allowed his bloodriders do as they wish to the witch.

As he had told her nothing would give him more satisfaction than to hear her painful screams. And how her screams filled the air as his brothers brutally had their way with her. She didn't go silent until about an hour, dead from either the rape or from the venom of the snake that had bitten her earlier. Then they had her body strung from a tree so that the crows themselves may feast.

But now Drogo feels anything but satisfied…

Could what the sister witch said be true? Could he and his woman wife have a daughter? Or was she simply saying anything she could to save herself?

And even if it were true why should he care? A daughter, ha! One of the signs of a unfavorable omen among the Dothraki is deformed and/or female infants. So even if he does have a daughter Drogo won't go looking for her.

 _It's also possible the girl the sister witch spoke off may belong to one of Dan Ares's brothers. Another reason to not bother entertaining the matter- especially if she is sired by that pathetic whelp. Then again…_

The image of his Little Moon enters his mind…

A couple of days ago Drogo had seen Danearys with her handmaids, touching the belly of one of them. The servant was with child fathered by one of the khas. Even though she was smiling, Drogo could still see a hint of sadness in his wife's eyes.

 _She will never bear another living child… I can just tell my little moon what the witch told me, no need for the insignificant detail. The child would apparently still be blood… and Dan Ares would be more than happy to raise her. To see her beautiful smile again…_

Back at camp Drogo decides to seek Jorah the Andal, finding him sitting outside his tent sharpening his blade.

"My lord," Jorah greets.

"I seek your words," Drogo says.

He then shifts to glance out of his peripheral vision. No one is around to take notice of their talk. During the ride back from the hunt he had told his bloodriders to not say a word about the sister witch.

"We talk inside,"

Jorah nods and sheaths his sword before they enter his tent.

"I am curious of the dragons." Drogo says.

"What about them, my lord?"

Drogo grins. "Such as… is it common for them to be immune to fire?"

"Well they are able to tolerate extreme heat and weather better than other people, but are not invulnerable to fire- at least, not all of them."

"Do you know if my woman wife's brothers are invulnerable?"

"I couldn't say,"

"Hmm…" Drogo looks off.

* * *

}¡{ **ZHALIA** }¡{

The small earthy village is full of shouts and laughter under the midday sun. The children can be found sitting on a porch. Zhalia nibbling on a piece of malt candy while Orion enjoys a slice of cherry pie.

The little girl's complexion is now pasty and the circles under her eyes are much less noticeable.

A few days ago when the traders came to the village a woman had given Blake a meat pie that would help with Zhalia's malady. She ate only one slice that morning and after waking up around noon she was able to actually eat a meal without feeling nauseous. Over the past two days her appetite has picked up, she's able to get more sleep, and her body doesn't ache as badly as it use to.

"Do you think father will let us go to the tavern tonight?" Zhalia asks.

"I hope so." Orion responds before licking the sticky syrup from his fingers. "I hear the troubadours do great tricks and tell amazing stories."

Zhalia soon finishes the last bit of her candy, wishing she had more as she licks her fingers. Actually, now that she thinks about, she rather have another slice of the meat pie. A smile adorns the girl's face, glad that just the mere thought of food no longer makes her nauseous.

Orion suddenly lifts a hand and waves over at the boys he had befriended, then gets up. "Hey, are you able to get back on your own?"

Zhalia nods.

"Go straight to father." Orion says sternly. "If he asks tell him I took you and then went off."

Zhalia nods again, and as her brother runs off she gets to her feet and makes her way home.

She heads straight to the steady stream of people that link the village to the camp. The traders have settled in a empty field on the outskirts of town. Groups of wagons, colorful tents, and fires are randomly spread across it.

 _I never had a chance to thank the lady who brought the pie... Hopefully I can find her before we leave... Maybe even give her a gift..._

At some point something from the corner of her eye catches her attention. Looking over Zhalia sees a flower- a pink moss rose- growing in the shade of an eave. The little girl heads straight to the side of the house. She kneels and picks the flower from the earth and holds it close, smiling as she admires it.

 _I remember seeing ingredients for a healing made from these... The book I gave that Godswife of Lhazar... Maybe she was the one who gave us the pie. Maybe father knows how to make the cream... And I can give that as a gift..._

After a couple moments Zhalia stands and turns to leave when suddenly she bumps into someone. She stumbles back and lands on ground. Immediately she mumbles her apologies as she gets up to her feet and brush the dirt from her pants.

When she looks up... her eyes widen.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES**

I don't think Drogo would like having to raise one of Viserys's bastard kids. But knowing him he'd move mountains if it meant making his Little Moon happy. What do you think will happen next?

Only one way to find out lol.


	6. Atthiraridos

**READER'S DISCRETION ADVISED**

 **THIS STORY CONTAINS MAN ON MAN, WOMAN ON WOMAN, GRAPHIC SCENES, RAPE, GORE, SMUT, AND STRONG LANGUAGE.**

 **DISCLAIMER**

 **I DO NOT OWN THE GAME OF THRONE SERIES OR SOME OF THE CHARACTERS OR ANY SCENES THAT MAY LOOK FAMILIAR.**

* * *

}¡{ **BLAKE** }¡{

The sun shines bright as it reigns supreme in the delightful azure sky.

Cloud is on the ground, pawing and pecking at the ground for insects. At some point the white raven looks up as Blake walks by, kneeling in front of a tree. Cloud spreads his wings and takes flight, soon perching on a branch. He silently watches the old man curiously as he mutters something under his breath.

Before Blake is a bowl-like depression filled with clear dew water, the surface of which becomes completely flat and frozen by an invisible force.

The reflections disappear and the water becomes clear, soon an image of Zhalia shimmers. She's walking, trudging along as she holds something- as pure white as her surroundings- in her hand. Her pale skin has a bit of a grey hue to it and she has dark rings under her eyes. She kneels with the object in her hands and moves to lower it into something.

Blake continues to watch the image of the little girl for a bit, and when the strain of using magic begins to bring beads of sweat to his forehead he tiredly lets the image fade.

"How is she?" a voice asks from behind.

Blake looks over his shoulder at his son who is standing about a couple yards away. "She seems to be doing alright."

"W- were you able to see where she was? Or anything?"

"No," Blake says as he moves to rise. "And they're on the move again."

"Where do you think they're heading?"

"Well… since it's somewhere I haven't been I can safely assume somewhere East. Perhaps to the southeast of the Dothraki Sea."

Sadness affects Orion's face, tears brimming his eyes. "It's all my fault,"

"No," Blake says as he approaches the boy.

Orion looks down at the ground and sniffles. "I shouldn't have left her alone… I should have walked her back… I-"

"Son," Blake cuts him off. "It wasn't your fault."

* * *

}¡{ **ZHALIA** }¡{

The girl uses all her strength to lift the heavy pot full of water out of the lake. With a grunt she sets it down, then crouches and wraps her arms around the pot. Taking a deep breath she picks up the pot and starts to slowly trudge on her way.

A woman suddenly approaches her and snatches the pot out of her arms, and speaks in Dothraki. "The snails are faster than you,"

Zhalia watches as the woman takes the pot of water back over to a fire where another pot awaits to prepare soup.

The girl goes off to her usual happy spot, which is a tall tree. It's a bit of a struggle to climb, with the soreness and all, but she manages to get up on a thick branch and looks out. A smile adorns her face at the view that lays before her.

It is a vast plain dotted with countless tents and fires. The copper-skinned people almost look like ants as they go about their daily duties. Women cook and work on turning animal skins into pelts. Children, mainly girls, lightly fill the air with their laughter as they run about. In the distance is a fenced field where all the horses are kept.

 _An actual khalasar..._ Zhalia thinks to herself with excitement.

In the distance she can see a stream of people still coming into the camp and the sun will be setting in a couple of hours. Zhalia often wonders exactly how big the khalasar is, no doubt in the thousands. Can't be any bigger than that of the great khal Drogo's, king of the Grass Sea, which has over forty thousand. But from what she recalls the khal seems to have known Drogo himself. Pono if she heard right is his name, and when she was brought before him he said something unbelievable about Drogo.

 _He was boasting about how after the Great Khal fell off his horse and he took some of his khalasar when he made himself a khal... Which is one of the ways one becomes a khal... But Drogo... Falling off his horse!? No maybe I heard wrong... Or I can ask-_

Zhalia's thoughts are interrupted by a loud whistle and looks down to see two men. It's the two same kos who had snatched her away from the village, one of which gestures for her to come. The girl obediently as quickly as she can descends from the tree. Once she is on the ground she just starts to walk, with the two kos close behind her, to a particular tent. Inside she is greeted with warm smiles by the four elderly woman healers of the khalasar.

Unlike the others, they have treated Zhalia very kindly.

"Hello, sweetling." One of the woman healers greets in the common tongue.

"Hello," Zhalia greets back in a bit of a croaky voice as she goes to sit on a cot.

One of the kos approaches the healer, speaking in his native tongue, his tone a bit aggravated. "The lord wishes to know why the child looks like a walking corpse."

"We are not yet sure what malady the little one has." Another healer answers.

"Well he grows impatient." Says the ko. "When she was first brought here under your care a simple spoon's worth of something should have restored her health."

"Well perhaps if she wasn't laboring everyday she'd get a bit better." The other healer says as she gently places her fingers on the sides of the child's neck.

The other ko scoffs. "Corpse or not all slaves do their part."

"Well how about we try this." Says a third healer as she comes over with a dark green vial.

"Here," says the last healer as she joins the other two with a piping hot cup of ginger mint tea. "Pour it in here so it'd be easier to take."

"Be easier to just feed her to the dogs." The first ko says.

"What and get them sick too?" Says the second ko.

"And clearly you useless healers wouldn't be much help to them as you are with this little bitch."

"Forgive us," says the first healer. "Tell our lord that we'll have the little one better soon."

"For your sake she better start looking it tomorrow." Growls the first ko before he and his brother exit.

"Here little one," the third healer woman says as she offers the cup of two with the medicine in it. "Take this and we'll get you some soup."

"Thank you," Zhalia mutters after accepting the cup.

It takes her a while to down the soothing contents, and when she finishes the healers give her some soup. Of course she could only take a few spoonfuls without feeling too nauseous. By then the medicine begins to take effect and she lays down, one of the healers come over and drape a blanket over her.

Another healer sits by her side and knits as she hums a lullaby, making Zhalia drift into comforting unconsciousness...

* * *

Dreams roil in Zhalia's mind, breeding and living by their own laws. And ever since she was taken they have all been the same...

 _It's dark..._

 _Pitch black..._

 _And she feels very cold, yet there is still a little warmth nearby. She also feels as if she's in a very tight space. But what is most noticeable is the gnawing hunger._

 _As if she hadn't eaten in lord-knows-how-long._

 _Sometimes it's completely silent. Other times she can faintly hear voices. This time she can hear the voices of women speaking. Despite being barely able to hear she can tell they are speaking in Dothraki. One voice always stands out more for some reason._

 _The voice sounds familiar... As if she had heard before in another, half-forgotten dream... And it makes her feel safe..._

 _"_ _I think that is a lovely name, Irri." The voice says._

 _"_ _Thank you, khaleesi." The second voice says, Irri, responds. "Oh it's almost time for your bath. I'll-"_

 _"_ _No- no Irri. It is best that you do not overwork yourself. Jhiqui, help her back to her tent. Get some rest."_

 _"_ _Yes, khaleesi."_

Zhalia is suddenly yanked out of her slumber when a hand clamps over her mouth- her eyes snap open and she looks at the silhouette standing over her.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES**

Oh man- oh man- oh man! What's in store for sweet little Zhalia? And I wonder... was that a dream... or something more?

Of course ya'll know how to find out.

Until next time, as always, stay awesome loves!:)


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